


Fairy Tale Ending

by imaginary_golux



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Fae & Fairies, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22595770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: The Fae Folk brought Robinton underhill. Menolly and Sebell have gotten him back. But the tale's not quite over yet...Beta by my wonderful Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw.
Relationships: Menolly/Robinton/Sebell (Dragonriders of Pern), Menolly/Sebell (Dragonriders of Pern)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44
Collections: February Ficlet Challenge 2020





	Fairy Tale Ending

Menolly lies down on the cool grass, staring up at the pink-and-orange streaked clouds and breathing hard. Beauty curls up on her chest, crooning quietly, and Menolly strokes the little queen, taking comfort in warm scales and the way Beauty’s tail wraps around her wrist. The rest of her fair flit about, playing in the gentle breeze.

Beside her, Sebell sits down hard, Kimi draped over his shoulder, and laughs softly and mirthlessly.

Master Robinton stays standing, staring at the rising sun in awe, Zair cradled to his chest. The little bronze is _exhausted_ , and well he might be. Without him, Menolly doesn’t think they’d ever have found Robinton. Without Kimi and Menolly’s nine, they would never have been able to win him back. Sebell and Menolly can _play_ all night - that’s not a problem at all - but without the fire lizards to keep the underhill folk away from them, they’d have been pulled from their seats, their instruments torn from their hands - _anything_ to keep them from winning through.

Apparently a Masterharper is the sort of prize the people underhill will not happily release.

“I cannot thank you enough,” Master Robinton says once the sun has fully risen.

“No thanks are necessary, Masterharper,” Sebell croaks, his throat dry from singing. Menolly fumbles a waterflask from her belt and hands it to him, and Sebell drains half of it in a long swallow.

“We could not leave you there,” Menolly says.

Master Robinton folds slowly down to sit beside Sebell. “You _could_ have, easily. You _would_ not. I do not know how I have earned such devotion, my dear friends.”

Menolly glances over at Sebell, who meets her eyes with a rueful smile. They’ve discussed how they feel about Master Robinton several times, and every time come to the conclusion that they had rather keep his respect and friendship, keep their late nights singing and playing and writing music with him, keep their quiet daydreams, than risk him sending them away if they tell him the truth. “Perhaps we wanted to do something worthy of a song,” Menolly suggests.

“Even you, my dear Menolly, would not risk such for a song,” Robinton says.

Sebell chuckles. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I seem to recall someone much like Menolly spending a night in a supposedly-haunted cave system because she wanted to write about the ghosts.”

Menolly sticks her tongue out at him. “And I got a very good song cycle out of it, thank you very much.”

“That is still not quite the same thing,” Robinton says. “How may I repay such devotion as you have shown me?”

There’s a pause, while Menolly and Sebell exchange another long look, and Menolly’s fire lizards flit about caroling in the breeze, and Zair climbs onto Robinton’s shoulder and winds his tail around Robinton’s throat. “Well,” Sebell says at last, voice deliberately light, “you know far more tales of such valor than we do, Masterharper. What is the normal reward?”

Robinton chuckles. “Well, _normally_ in such tales, the valiant harper has gone beneath the hill to retrieve his - or her - own true love…”

He trails off, staring at Menolly, who must have done _something_ despite her resolve to keep her expression perfectly still. Very slowly, Robinton turns to Sebell, who ducks his head to hide his blush.

Robinton clears his throat. With the air of someone choosing his words very carefully, he says, “And normally in such tales, the reward desired is - at the very least - a kiss.”

Menolly is fairly sure _she_ is blushing, too, and her tan isn’t going to be enough to hide it. “It is enough that we have won you free,” she says. “We do not need any sort of reward. We would not wish to ask anything of you that you did not desire.” _I’ll have you by your will alone / and not my own desire_ , there’s a line she might be able to use for something. Or maybe _I saved you not for gleaming gems / and not for shining gold / Nor yet to claim your promised hand / but all for love alone_. As a duet, maybe, between the lover and the beloved…

“I do not think either of you _could_ ask anything of me I did not desire to give,” Robinton says, yanking her out of her reverie with an almost-tangible _thump_. She and Sebell both stare at Robinton in astonishment. He _can’t_ mean what it sounds like - but Robinton never says anything he doesn’t mean, and always knows exactly what the words he has chosen will imply.

“Well then,” Sebell says softly, “I suppose it would be a pity, as we seem to be living in a tale anyway, not to finish it properly.”

“Finish it, my dear Sebell?” Robinton says, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Oh no. I think this is only the beginning.” He holds out his hands, and Menolly sits up to take one as Sebell clasps the other. Beauty chirps and scrambles onto Menolly’s shoulder.

“A kiss,” Robinton says softly, and pulls Menolly gently forward. His lips are soft and warm and a little chapped, and he tastes like salt and Benden wine. When their lips part again, Menolly sits back and watches Sebell lean forward, and swallows hard at the loveliness of seeing them kiss.

There’s a song in this, but Menolly thinks maybe it will have to be one she only sings in private. She might scandalize the Lord Holders if she sings it at a Gather.

_We sought our love beneath the Hill / my lover brave and me / And won his freedom and his heart / to share between us three…_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the February Ficlet Challenge prompt "Fae Folk AU."


End file.
